Loose Lips
by Breathe In Butterfly
Summary: Chuck says stupid things all the time. The last thing he needs is alcohol. Casey/Chuck slash.


Loose Lips

"Thank you for bringing me home," Chuck flashed a sweet smile that would have had Sarah silently melting and smiling shyly but Casey just rolled his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. Still Chuck's smile didn't dim. In fact he grinned even wider and his eyes sparkled with amusement like it was an endearing quirk rather than an insult.

Casey hoped that if he ignored him he would shut up, but it hadn't worked yet. He had chattered incessantly from the moment they left the Buymore. During the car ride home he had wished more than once he had brought the tranq gun with him. The only gun he had on him was a handgun in the holster on his leg but shooting the asset probably wasn't one of his better ideas, although it was improving in his mind second by second.

He climbed out of the car and went around to the passenger side to let Chuck out. He opened the door and put his arm around him to help him up. Predictably he immediately stumbled, but Casey was strong and could more than manage holding up one lanky nerd. Even so he struggled to contain growls of annoyance as Chuck giggled and floundered all over the place.

If he thought that the endless stream of chatter was over he was very much mistaken. As soon as Chuck had regained his balance he continued where he left off, as though there had been no interruptions inbetween. "You look after me so well and I never thank you enough."

"You," he poked Casey repeatedly in the chest to emphasise his point. "You are a nice man, a very nice man. You're just… awesome." He burst into giggles that soon had him doubling over.

Casey audibly growled and twisted his head to glare down at him. He didn't speak but anger was evident in his stone set face. He had the art of intimidation perfected but Chuck just didn't know when to shut his mouth.

"You're kind of sexy when you're angry," he wasn't sure what possessed him to say it but the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them and once they were spoken there was no taking them back. It wasn't the first time Chuck had regretted speaking-- it was pretty much a regular occurrence. There was no disputing the fact that he was intelligent but the connection between his brain and his mouth was pretty much nonexistent and it landed him in trouble more times than was healthy. Factor into that equation Morgan's thirtieth birthday party; a night spent downing various shots of dubious looking alcohol from Jeff's stash at the Buymore and the result was a (not so competently) walking disaster.

If the situation hadn't been so tense and various weapons hadn't been well within Casey's reach then the effects of his outburst would have been quite comical. A moment of pure confusion flashed across his face: his eyes narrowed, his eyebrows furrowed and then shot up. He looked as though he had stopped breathing and the expression on his face became unreadable. There was no doubt about it he was the scariest man Chuck had ever seen in a Buymore uniform.

Chuck gulped and wondered if Casey could reach his gun before he could run away. Even without his current state of inebriation the answer was most likely. He wondered if he should apologise, laugh or just run but his options were taken away from him as he lost his footing and stumbled forwards.

The next few moments were like a chain reaction that his alcohol muddled brain couldn't process. Two strong arms reached out to grab him and instead of hitting the ground he fell into a warm body. He glanced up and found himself face to face with Casey. They were so close he could feel his hot breath against his face and his eyes bore holes into him. He withered under his intensive stare. He looked so sexy angry.

"Oh screw it," Casey grumbled and before Chuck's brain could catch up he tangled one strong hand in his hair and slammed him forward to his furious lips.

Chuck responded eagerly: although the next morning the memory would be blurred and indistinctive and he would blame it on the confusion that alcohol caused; the way he responded was anything but confused. His arm wrapped tightly around Casey pulling him as close as he could. Their lips danced to a frantic tempo against each other and he couldn't suppress a groan as he felt his tongue flutter against his lips and then push into his mouth engaging his in a furious battle for dominance. His hands ran frantically across the muscular body pressed against his and he touched every inch of bare skin he could reach.

Casey's hand moved from the back of his hand and trailed down across his skin, causing him to feel like his skin was catching fire where he touched and then he slowed the kiss and it became more for gentle until he slowly pulled his lips away. His hands trailed down Chuck's shoulders until they rested loosely against his arms. They were both left breathless and stood still for a few seconds trying to regain oxygen and in Chuck's case balance.

Casey knew that he had seriously compromised his cover and there was no question in his mind that he would be compromising it much further that night. His thoughts were conflicted and they weighed heavy on his mind. For a second he wanted to shoot Chuck again but the logical side of his brain reasoned that it wasn't exactly his fault. The fact he couldn't even blame him made him want to shoot him more. 'Damn Bartowski.'

Chuck seemed to be slightly dazed and he stared off into space with a goofy grin across his face. He swayed dangerously on the spot as the alcohol overpowered him, and just before passing out he giggled.

"You're a way better kisser than Morgan!"

Casey sighed heavily and looked down at the unconscious man sprawled across his feet, and, although he would never admit it, he smiled.

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